See You On The Other Side
by AgentRez
Summary: Jack's thoughts during a pivotal scene in 7x22. Second chapter is the same scene from Tony's perspective. Spoiler warning for overseas viewers.
1. Chapter 1: Jack's POV

_This takes place during the confrontation between Jack and Tony in 7x22. This first chapter shows Jack's thoughts during that scene, and the second chapter will show the same scene from Tony's perspective, if I can ever figure out what's going through his messed up head right now. _

_Disclaimer: If I owned the characters, do you think Tony would have become an evil two-faced psychopath?_

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_"See you on the other side," I had said to Tony when he dropped me off at the White House last night. At the time I had no idea that he was already on the other side, that he had been on the other side for years and was just using me to achieve his objectives. Looking back now, I should have known. I should have realized that things weren't quite adding up._

Deep down I think I did know it, but I had pushed away my suspicions because I didn't want to believe them. I didn't want to believe that my friend whom I once trusted with my life would betray me. I didn't want to believe that my friend who had once served his country with as much dedication as anyone I knew could turn against everything and everyone he once fought for.

The truth is, there's a part of me that still doesn't want to believe it. Despite all the evidence staring me in the face, part of me still doesn't want to accept that my friend has turned into the cold, soulless man sitting in front of me. But right now, I don't have any choice. As I told Chloe earlier, I can't think of him as my friend. I have to treat him like an enemy combatant and focus on stopping him from carrying out this threat.

"Where is it?" I demand, punching him in the face. I punch him again before he has the chance to answer, telling him I'm not going to stop until he tells me where the canister is. No response. I keep punching him and punching him, even though deep down I know that no matter how many times I punch him he's not going to talk.

I think back to yesterday afternoon in the hospital, when Renee slapped me and asked if I could still feel anything. Now, as I keep punching Tony, all I want to do is ask him the same thing. I want to know if he felt anything for the 30 or so FBI agents he instructed Galvez to blow up or the two he callously gunned down himself. I want to know if he felt even a twinge of guilt as he watched Renee uncover Larry's dead body. I want to know if it bothers him that because of his betrayal, Bill had to give up his life and my daughter had to see me dying. I want to know if he knows how much his betrayal hurts, or if he even cares.

"Why did you betray me?" I ask him, unable to conceal the pain in my voice. He just stares at me. Maybe I see a glint of shame in his eyes, but I'm probably just seeing what I want to see.

"Why?" I ask again, my voice sounding almost desperate at this point. Again, no answer. Overcome with anger, I step back and raise my gun to his head.

"I have nothing left to lose," I tell him coldly. "You either tell me where the canister is or so help me g-d I will lay you down right here right now."

It is now that Tony opens his mouth to speak for the first time. "You think I've got anything left to lose, Jack?" he asks with a chuckle. Something about the way he says it knocks me off my game and induces a wave of nausea. I don't want to admit to myself that I understand how he feels, and I don't want to remember that it's because of me that he lost everything in the first place.

"Do it," he says softly, his voice full of resignation and despair. My hand shakes as I prepare to pull the trigger. I stare deep into his eyes to see if he is serious. He nods, his eyes almost urging me to put him out of his misery.

Maybe that's why I can't do it. Maybe I feel like I'd be letting him off easy, and he doesn't deserve that after everything he's done. But I know there's another reason I can't bring myself to kill him. I can't bring myself to give up on him again.

As much as I don't want to admit it, the truth is, I gave up on him five years ago. When I found him on the floor of the clinic at CTU after Henderson injected him with poison I didn't try as hard as I could to save him. It wasn't a conscious decision, but deep down I knew that after everything he'd been through he wouldn't be able to get through it. He had already lost everything once, and I knew he didn't have the strength to pick up the pieces and rebuild his life a second time. His final words were "she's gone, Jack," and I took that as his way of asking me to let him die in peace. After everything I'd taken from him I guess I thought I owed him that much. When he closed his eyes I urged him to hang on, but when I felt his body grow limp in my arms I didn't have the heart to try to revive him. As much as I hate to admit it, the truth is that as sad as I was to lose him, when I thought he was dead part of me felt relieved, relieved that he would be spared the pain of losing Michelle, a pain I knew all too well.

I've been replaying what I thought were his final moments in my head for the past 24 hours, since I first found out he was still alive, wondering if I had known earlier if there's anything I could have done. I try to tell myself that it wouldn't have made a difference. He probably blamed me for Michelle's death, and by the time I got back from China he was probably too far gone. But part of me still believes I could have gotten through to him, and there's a part of me that believes I can get through to him now, despite all evidence to the contrary. Despite the stoic expression on his face I can tell that I'm getting to him.

I tell myself that it doesn't matter. I know that it's too late to make a difference even if I could get through to him. Even if I can make him think twice about his actions it won't bring back the people he's killed or undo the damage he's done. I'm dying and Tony's going to spend the rest of his life in jail and probably face the death penalty. As his friend, part of me wants to pull the trigger right now and spare him all that. Even though he betrayed me, I still feel responsible for what happened to him, and part of me thinks I owe him that much.

But I can't do it. I can't bring myself to pull the trigger. I lower my weapon and concede defeat.

I continue to stare at Tony, only half-hearing Agent Walker when she tells me that they found Jibraan. I know that I need to focus, that stopping the canister from going off is the priority. But I can't tear my eyes away from Tony, unable to kill him because I need to know what happened to him.

Deep down, I know what happened to him. I don't know how they brainwashed him into thinking that killing innocent civilians was the right thing to do, but I understand why he's able to kill without feeling anything. I understand that once he committed himself to the mission he trained himself not to care. He trained himself not to feel anything, because it was the only way he could numb himself to the pain he was feeling. He became consumed by his anger because it was easier to be angry and hungry for revenge than to deal with the sheer emptiness that came with waking up every day and realizing that the person he loved more than anything in the world was gone forever.

I look at Tony now and it scares me to think I could have gone down the same path. When Teri was murdered I gave up on serving my country for a while. When I was undercover with the Salazars there were times when I found myself shooting up more than I needed to to maintain my cover, and there were times when I felt myself crossing the line between being undercover and becoming a part of their world of drugs, sex and greed. Times when their world seemed a lot easier and more appealing than mine. But I still had Kim to worry about. I still had a link to humanity. Tony didn't have that.

Stop it, I scold myself. I don't want to feel sympathy for him. I can't let myself empathize with him, not if I want to stop him from killing innocent people. I tell myself that Tony and I have nothing in common, not anymore.

But deep down, I know that's not true. I may not have made the same choices he made, and I can't imagine I would ever get to the point where I could kill innocent people as callously as he has. But the truth is, I've felt the same anger and resentment that led him down this path. I've felt the same sense of abandonment by the government I spent my life serving. Just like Tony, I've hardened myself to innoculate myself against the pain.

As much as I'd like to deny it, deep down I know that Tony's not the only one who gave up a piece of his humanity. I guess that's why I can't give up on him now, why I have to believe that there's some humanity left in him in spite of everything he's done. Tony and I may be on opposite sides now, but we've felt the same pain and faced the same struggles, and deep down I know that if I give up on him, I'm giving up on myself.

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_Love it? Think it could be improved? Either way I'd really appreciate your feedback. Hopefully I will have Tony's perspective up within the next few days...anything to keep myself from reading spoilers about the finale. Oh yeah, if you do review this, please no finale spoilers...I'm trying so hard to stay away from all the leaks!_


	2. Chapter 2: Tony's POV

As promised, here is the same scene in 7x22 from Tony's point of view. It was a little hard to write without knowing his motive, but hopefully I did a decent job of capturing his emotions without speculating on what his end game is. Reviews are very much appreciated, but please do not mention the anagram or any other finale spoilers...I am killing myself trying to resist the urge to look at them.

Obviously, I do not own the 24 characters...if I did I would have fired whoever came up with the idea to turn my favorite character into a seemingly evil psychopath. **The song lyrics used in this fic are original and not formally copyrighted to anyone**, though I would appreciate if people did not steal them. The conflict between Jack and Tony inspired me to write this song about two comrades who find themselves on opposite sides of a war. I have a tune in mind but do not know how to compose music, so if anyone wants to take a stab at it feel free, but please share your work with me and give credit.

This is the last chapter for now, but I may tweak or rewrite it after the finale. Please let me know what you think (of the song and the fic).

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I never wanted to hurt you  
'Cuz you were always there for me  
It was you and me against the world  
Thought that it would always be

But we both know things are different now  
Life just took us different ways  
So please don't take it personal  
We just don't see things the same

**See you on the other side  
'Cuz only one can win this game  
See you on the other side  
Now things will never be the same**

Wish you'd climb down off your high horse  
Wish you'd just be more like me  
But deep down I know you're twice the man  
I could ever hope to be

There was a time when I looked up to you  
And the truth is I still do  
But life took me down a different road  
Now I've got to see this through

Don't expect you to understand it  
Don't know how I could explain  
But no matter what I hope you know  
Hope you know you're not to blame

We just don't see things the same

**See you on the other side  
Only one can win this fight  
See you on the other side  
Both convinced our side is right**

**See you on the other side  
When we've got nothing left to lose  
See you on the other side  
Wish we'd never had to choose**

I wish there was some other way  
Wish we didn't have to fight  
But we both set out to win this war  
Both believe our side is right

We're more alike than ever now  
Just wound up on different sides  
Both stubborn and devoted souls  
Both prepared to give our lives

Now I've made my choice and you've made yours  
It's too late to turn around  
I'll see you on the other side  
Of this tattered battleground

**See you on the other side  
Now we've got nothing left to lose  
See you on the other side  
Should have never had to choose**

**See you on the other side  
'Cuz only one can win this fight  
See you on the other side  
Will we ever know who's right?  
Does it matter which side's right?  
If I lose a friend tonight?**

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"For Christ's sake, Jack, quit looking at me like that," I think to myself.

I know he's angry, and I don't blame him for beating the crap out of me. I lied to him, and I guess I deserve that much. I just wish he'd get that look off his face, that look that's tugging at heartstrings I didn't know I still had.

He starts punching me in the face, under the guise of an interrogation. But we both know it's just an excuse. He knows I won't talk no matter how many times he hits me. I think he keeps hitting me just to see if I'm still human, if I can still feel pain.

"Yes," I want to tell him. "Yes, this hurts like hell, what do you think? Yes, it bothers me that Bill's dead and you're dying. No, I don't take pleasure in killing people - I just do what has to be done." But I can't. I can't let down my guard. I can't let Jack see that he's getting to me when he gives me that stupid wounded puppy look and asks me why I betrayed him.

I can see the desperation on his face as he asks me why. I can tell that he's hoping against hope that I'll tell him I've been undercover this whole time or give him a code word like I did yesterday morning. Anything to avoid facing the reality of who I am now and what I've become.

I don't think I'd know how to explain it even if I wanted to. There's nothing I could say that would make him feel any better or help him understand. He's still stuck on his rose-colored view of the world no matter how much sh*t they put him through and there's nothing I can do to change his mind.

Truth be told, I don't want to change him. As much as I wish he'd wake up and stop offering himself up as a sacrificial lamb for a government that keeps betraying him, part of me doesn't want to see him change. I guess because I know that if there were more people like Jack in this world maybe the government wouldn't be so f*cked up. The last thing in the world I want is to end up like him, but somehow I wouldn't want to see him turn out like me either.

I guess deep down I know I'm not half the man Jack is. I never was, and that's why part of me has always resented him even when we were as close as brothers. Jack was always like that overachieving big brother who made me feel inadequate. Even then I could never admit how much I admired him, and I don't want to even admit to myself that a part of me still does.

Maybe that's why today has been so rough. Frankly, the last few weeks have been rough. It was easy to stay focused on what I was doing and not think about the human cost when I spent all my time in the company of mercenaries and thugs. But since I contacted Bill and Chloe flew out from LA to help us it's been a little harder to lie and to block out any emotion. Somehow it's different being around people who knew me before, people who knew Michelle. I wasn't completely honest with them, but I told them a little bit about my past to get them trusting me. It was the first time I'd had to evaluate what I'd done, and I didn't like the feeling. But at least with them I could shrug off their disappointed looks and tell myself they couldn't judge because they hadn't been through what I'd been through.

With Jack I couldn't do that. As rough as I've had it, I know Jack's had it ten times worse. I guess I know Jack's the only person who has any right to judge me for what I've done, and somehow that makes it harder not to care. I just wish he wouldn't take it so personally. I wish he would't blame himself for my decisions. I wish he'd just stop caring about me.

"Get a grip, Tony," I urge myself. I've got to stop letting Jack get to me.

I just wish I'd killed him a few hours ago when I had the chance. He was onto me, and I needed to neutralize him. Besides, he's dying anyway, and I know what this pathogen does. He would have been better off if I'd have put him out of his misery. But for some reason I felt the need to explain myself to Jack first, to tell him that I had never wanted to hurt him. As if it would have made any difference to him 30 seconds later when he was dead. But I just had to try to make him understand, because for some strange reason I still find myself caring what he thinks. So I wasted about 30 seconds talking to him before pulling the trigger, and then it was too late. I saw two paramedics approaching, and I had no choice but to flag them down to help Jack.

I managed to get away before he could tell anyone to stop me, but I knew he wasn't going to stop until he found me. Now I had no choice but to put Plan B in motion, and I really didn't want to go there.

I don't know why I hesitated. I trained myself years ago to shoot without hesitation, to eliminate anyone who got in the way without thinking about the consequences or the philosophical questions about whether it was justified. The last time I held a weapon in my hand and hesitated I almost got myself killed, and I let the man responsible for Michelle's murder get away.

It wasn't too hard to detach myself, really. When I was in the Marines we didn't hesitate to shoot if we saw the enemy approach. We didn't stop to think about whether the guys on the other side had families or whether our mission was justified. We followed orders, and we did what we had to do to get the job done. That's what I've been doing for the past five years, and it wasn't hard until now.

Somehow today it got harder though. I wish I hadn't had to kill Larry, especially after he took off my cuffs and told me I didn't deserve to be treated like a prisoner. And I have to admit that watching Renee uncover his body got to me a little. When she asked me what happened I felt a pit in my stomach, and it wasn't just because Jack was listening with eagle ears trying to figure it out. I felt a genuine twinge of guilt, something I haven't felt in a long time until today. I tried to make her feel a little better by telling her that I was pretty sure Larry had saved my life. I figured it was the least I could do.

I don't know why I felt guilty. I just met Renee today and I figured there was a good chance she was about to die anyway, once Galvez drew everyone into a building like I told him to. But I guess it's the first time in a while that I've had to watch someone react, and her reaction made death, something I've grown so comfortable with and indifferent to, suddenly seem less abstract. Besides, I could tell Larry was more than just a boss to her, and for a split second it brought me back to the way Michelle must have reacted years ago when I was out in the field with Jack and for a little while it looked like I was dead.

I quickly pushed the thought out of my head. I don't ever let myself think about Michelle. It's too dangerous. I don't ever let myself question whether she would understand why I'm doing what I'm doing. I can't let myself become crippled by the nauseating emptiness that comes whenever I step back from my anger even for a moment. My anger is a shield, a shield that prevents me from ever having to feel that emptiness, from ever having to care about anything or anyone that might get in the way of doing what I need to do.

It's that shield that's made it so easy for me to kill without thinking twice. But I feel it crumbling, and that scares me more than the gun Jack's pointing at my head. Frankly, I just wish Jack would pull the trigger already and put me out of my misery. For his sake as well as mine.

I think back to the night about 8 years ago when Jack and I were at CTU going over the final preparations for his mission with the Salazars. When we were done he asked me if I would keep an eye out for Kim while he was gone. Of course I agreed. It was the least I could do while he was putting his neck on the line yet again.

I didn't want to have to use Kim as leverage, but Jack didn't leave me any choice. I told my people not to hurt her unless they had to, but who knows if they'll even listen?

I tell myself that Jack would do the exact same thing if he could. I know that if he had any leverage over me right now he wouldn't hesitate to use it. But he doesn't, because unlike him I've really got nothing left to lose.

"I've got nothing left to lose," Jack says shakily. As if I do. "You either tell me where the canister is or so help me g-d I will lay you down, right here, right now."

For some reason I can't help but chuckle. "You think I've got anything left to lose, Jack?" I retort. His face twitches. I'm not sure whether that's from the pathogen or just his emotions.

"Do it," I say softly, looking deep into his eyes. He studies me for a few moments to see if I'm serious. I nod earnestly, silently willing him to go ahead. He doesn't know that I'm urging him to do it for his sake, so my people won't have to execute Plan B. I look deep into his eyes and nod, bracing myself for the shot, hoping that he's angry enough to go through with it and pull the trigger.

But he can't do it. He can't bring himself to pull the trigger no matter how hurt and disgusted he is. Maybe he figures he'd be letting me off easy, but I know there's more to it than that. He has that devastated look on his face again, that face that shows how painful it is for him to see what's happened to me. Somehow that face and the fact that he could kill me hurt more than the pain from him beating the crap out of me. It hurts because it means he still thinks of me like a little brother even though I betrayed him, that a small part of him still believes there's hope for me, enough to be worth keeping me alive. But I gave up all hope long ago, and I bet Jack would give up on me too if he knew what was coming next.

For a second I find myself wanting to talk, wanting to at least tell him that it's not his fault, that there's nothing he could have done to change my mind or save me from myself. I feel like I at least owe him that much. But I can't. I can't let my guard down, and anything I tell him might clue him in and jeopardize the plan. So I just stare back up at Jack with a look that conceals my emotions, a look I've perfected quite well.

"See you on the other side," Jack had said to me earlier tonight. That's how it is now and that's how it's got to be. I never wanted to hurt him, but we're on opposite sides of this and there's no getting around that. I'll do what needs to be done and so will he. I just wish I didn't have to hurt a friend in the process.


End file.
